


Tippy Top

by usernamesarentcool



Category: Internet Personalities, Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF, Video Blogging & YouTube RPF
Genre: AU, Character Death, Depression, High School AU, Implied abuse, Kinda, M/M, Prompt Response, Self Harm, T for triggers I guess, Teen AU, depressed character, it was a text post but still, sorry I warned you I said so, youve been warned
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-01-09
Updated: 2015-07-22
Packaged: 2018-01-08 05:11:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 20,172
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1128722
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/usernamesarentcool/pseuds/usernamesarentcool
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Michael is fed up with his crappy life when he meets a new person. Based upon a text post on tumblr from user roosterstiel.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Falling to Pieces

Michael was fucking fed up. Nothing ever seemed to be going his way anymore. He just didn't understand it. His parents hated him, his friends were nonexistent, his grades were tanking, and he just couldn't catch a break. One day it was particularly bad. On this specific day, Michael had been through the ringer and back. He failed his biology test, he had to hear about the stupid dance for the millionth time, his English teacher yelled at him, someone wrote "loser" on his locker. Jesus, it was like some shitty movie. It couldn't have gotten worse.

Michael went home and slammed the front door shut. He just needed some sleep, he decided.

"MICHAEL!"

Fuck.

His dad had never been good to him. It seemed like today was far from a good day for either of them.

"MICHAEL!"

He hurried to the room his father was in, so as to not anger him more. By the strong scent of alcohol in the room and the way his dad was slurring his words, Michael could tell this was going to end badly.

 

Thoroughly bruised, Michael ran to his room, shut the door, and locked it. No one could get to him in there. His room was his only sanctuary in a world that made him it's bitch. His father banged on the door for about five minutes, then decided to leave. Michael heard the loud slam of the front door, thankful his father was out of the house. He was finally, truly alone.

Michael stepped in front of the mirror on his closet door to inspect the damage. This had been one of the better times, but it was still awful. He had a black eye and large purple discolorations on his leg and back he was already beginning to see. "Thank god the bottle never broke." Michael thought to himself.

He opened his bedroom window and saw his dad's car was gone.

Finally. Thank Christ, it was over. Michael went back to the mirror to look at himself once more.

"Shit, what am I going to tell the teachers?" He thought. They always asked him about his injuries and he always spewed out a bullshit excuse. He was afraid they were beginning to be suspicious, but he couldn't think of anything just then. He had too much on his mind.

Michael was fucking depressed and he couldn't think of anything better to do than to lay on his bed and cry. He thought out loud to himself, "Why the hell can nothing ever go my way? Why is everyone else always so happy? No body cares for me, no body wants me! No one would even FUCKING CARE IF I WAS GONE!" What began as thoughts was now Michael screaming out in his room. "Why am I never good enough?" He said, tears staining his cheeks.

"WHY AM I NEVER FUCKING GOOD ENOUGH?!?" He repeated, screaming to let out his anger and frustration.

"YOU'RE TIPPY TOP DON'T LET ANYONE TELL YOU OTHERWISE!" Michael heard from outside. At this point it occurred to Michael he left the window open. Great. Another thing he fucked up. Michael wiped his eyes and walked to the window, wondering who was outside and what the hell he was doing. The voice sounded male and different than normal. Michael couldn't quite put his finger on it.

Outside on the sidewalk in front of Michael's house was a lanky, tan boy who looked about the same age as him with unkempt hair and the biggest nose he'd ever seen. Michael knew he'd never talked to him before, but his face looked familiar and he couldn't say why.

"What you on about, mate?" The boy said, watching Michael lean out the second story window. Michael could now tell his accent was clearly that of an English or Australian person, but hell if he knew.

"Uh, did you, uh, hear all that?" Michael asked out the window.

"Just the last bit."

"Well, it's none of your business, is it? Just go on with your goddamn day." Michael had earned a sour look from the boy and slammed the window down. The unexpected interaction left Michael with little to make of it. He sat back down on his bed and put his head in his hands when he heard the doorbell ring. He looked out the window to make sure it wasn't his dad from his car, but luckily it wasn't present and he went downstairs to answer the door.

Before him stood the same boy from before, only this time with a stupid grin on his face which fell when he got a good look at Michael. The bruises on his face were clearly visible and his eyes were red because he'd been crying earlier and the boy could see every bit of it.

"Listen, I told you to screw off." Michael said, wishing to be alone. He had been close to people before and it never ended well, so he stopped attaching.

"Hey, I just wanted to say in sorry for- wait a second, you know what? I'm not sorry. Not in the least." The boy leaned on the door frame.

"You came here. This is none of your concern."

"I just want you to know that I think you're great no matter what you do. Whatever you're getting," the boy looked at Michael's injured eye, "you truly do not deserve it."

He spoke with such sincerity. It was almost as though he knew what it was like. Michael doubted his own thoughts.

"And whatever you've done," the boy continued, "wherever you've been, that doesn't matter. It's not your fault."

Michael was getting a little teary eyed at this but blinked it away.

"Where are you even from, anyways?"

"My family just moved over from England. I was sitting in my room when I heard screaming and came outside."

Ah, so Michael was right. Regardless, this guy had no right to be on his doorstep.

"Can you just... Can you just leave, please?"

"If that's what you want, that's what I'll do, but if you ever need me I'm two doors down." He held his hand out for Michael to shake. "I'm Gavin Free."

Michael was forced by social convention and took Gavin's hand.

"And I'm Michael Jones."

"Nice to meet you, Michael. Don't ever forget that I think your top." Gavin said. He turned around and walked away down the street to his house. Michael shut the front door, marched up to his room and shut the goddamn window.

"What the fuck just happened?"


	2. I Don't Need You.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the support guys! I have big plans for this fic.

Michael was glad when his dad didn't come home. He still left the door to his room locked, just in case. It didn't bother him. It wasn't like his dad did anything for him in the first place. Michael knew he was safer without him. Upon getting ready for school undisturbed, he went up to his mirror and surveyed his skin. The bruises were at their worse. They had just developed and hadn't started to heal yet. The best excuse that came to mind was "I got roughed up in kickboxing class." Michael didn't take any class. Eye injuries were typically the hardest to explain. He decided that was good enough. Michael left his room, went down the stairs, went through the door and shut it behind him.

Michael walked to school with only his thoughts to accompany him. He'd only made it an extremely short distance when he reached Gavin's house. The name had stuck with him even though he hadn't intended it to. Gavin Free from England. The unusual experience had him questioning a lot of things. Why would this random boy care so much? Screw it. Michael took his eyes off the house and shook his head as if that would help get the thoughts out. He walked the rest of the way to school, hoping not to be late. By the time Michael arrived in homeroom the announcements had barely ended.

"You're late." His teacher said.

"Yeah, I..." Michael fumbled for an excuse and noticed he'd had to make a lot of those lately. "I woke up late."

Michael took his seat near the back of the class.

"Tardy." The teacher said, marking him late on the class roll. Just another reason for someone else to hate him. Wonderful.

Michael sat silently and looked out the window of the room. He tried to widen his black eye, but it only brought him pain. He daydreamed off into of a world of his own. A place where he was popular and a jock and got great grades and had parents who loved him and wasn't depressed and everything would be so nice. He couldn't help but picture Gavin with him in this world. Their brief encounter made Michael feel like maybe he weren't so alone, but he convinced himself that was a lie.

"MICHAEL!" The teacher was irate and had obviously already said his name multiple times. Michael snapped out of it and all the students in the class laughed at him. Michael was so busy in his reverie that he hardly noticed time progressing and that it was already fourth period. Pre-calc. Christ.

The teacher gestured to the board, upon which was a string of numbers and letters that could be comprehensible to Michael if he gave a shit, but he really didn't.

"Well?" She asked, questioningly.

Michael spewed out something, anything that had something to do with the problem.

"Um, 2 cosign x?"

"No. Does anyone else have-" her train of thought was interrupted by the ring if the lunch bell.

"Remember your homework is pages 232-235 in your books. Michael, could you come see me?"

When most of the room was cleared out, Michael tentatively approached his math teacher's desk.

"Michael, you're smarter than this." He remained silent.

"And what happened to your eye?"

"Kickboxing accident." Michael said with a low tone, putting his head down at the mention of his eye.

"Well, I need your dad to sign this. It's your progress report." She handed Michael a folded up slip of paper. He didn't need to see it. He already knew he was failing.

"Can I leave now?" He asked.

"Have a good day, Michael."

Michael left the classroom and went to his locker to grab his lunch money and put away his books. He had no idea how he was going to have his dad sign the paper when he had no possible clue as to where his dad even was. He put his backpack back on and shut the metal door.

"'Ello."

"FUCK!" Michael jumped back from the figure that was hiding behind the door. Michael didn't intend to let out such a loud expletive, but he just had a goddamn heart attack.

"Bollocks, Michael. Loosen up."

Bollocks? What the hell did that mean? How foreign was this this guy?  However, Michael would be a liar if he said he wasn't happy Gavin remembered his name.

"Uh hi." Michael felt suddenly extremely shy.

"What, what are you doing here?" Michael questioned.

"Well didn't you hear? I go here now." Gavin's voice was loud and boisterous in contrast to Michael's. Needless to say it drew unwanted attention.

"What?"

"Well this is the local secondary school, isn't it? Where did you think I was going to go?"

"It's called high school, Gavin." Gavin smiled warmly and Michael didn't know why.

"Stop smiling so weird." Michael advised, beginning to walk down the hall. Gavin insistently followed him.

"So what class do you have next, mate?"

"PE." Michael said, flatly.

"Me, too!" Gavin was extremely enthusiastic for this shitty education system.

"Listen, Gavin, I'm going to give you some advice. Here if you're different you get treated badly. So I'm just saying you might wanna lay low."

"Whatever you say, Michael!" He didn't get the message.

Michael went in the line for lunch and bought his food and did his usual routine of eating in the computer lab alone. No one was there during lunch except people who had to print out something quickly. Gavin didn't follow him. He only had two more periods to pull through, he kept reminding himself.

It was nearing he end of lunch and Michael went to the locker room to change clothes for class. A few guys were already there, but none of the douchebags who Michael had the unfortunate luck of sharing a class with. Michael removed his old clothes and put on his new ones. He had his shirt over his head when he heard a familiar voice.

"Hey Mich-Oh my god, what happened to you?"

Michael pulled down his shirt as quickly as he could as Gavin came rushing over to him. Michael hadn't seen his lower back since yesterday, it could've be any degree of terrible looking. By how much he was suddenly aware it hurt, he knew it didn't look good.

"Jesus, what's wrong with your back? It's all purple." Gavin tried to get a look at Michael's back by lifting up his shirt again. Gavin obviously knew about his eye, but this was a lot worse.

"Gavin, stop." Michael said quietly. Michael was happy that the locker room was relatively uninhabited. Any asshole who saw Gavin like this would jump on the opportunity to call them both faggots and beat them up.

"No, you're hurt." Gavin persisted.

"I'm fine." He said, louder.

"Michael, that bruise looks bad-"

"ITS NONE OF YOUR FUCKING BUSINESS, GAVIN!" Gavin immediately stopped trying to inspect the bruise and backed away from Michael. Michael knew Gavin felt hurt from the look on his face, but right now he didn't care. He'd only known this guy a day. What gave him the fucking NERVE- that's it. Michael was done for today. For god sake!

Michael didn't talk to him the rest of the day. He didn't walk home with him even though he could've. Michael purposely came home late to avoid him. When Michael got home he was met with a note on the door.

 

Dear Michael,

I'm sorry that I was overstepping today. I know that we've only known each other for a short time, but even though you don't believe me I know what you're going through. Just remember if you ever need someone to talk to I'm just down the road. I guess I'll see you tomorrow. I'm really sorry.

                                       -Gavin 

(P.S. Don't ever forget that I think you're top)

 

On the back of the paper was Gavin's phone number. Michael folded it up and tucked it in his pocket. He was glad that Gavin apologized, but now that he was thinking about it he kinda acted like an asshat, too. Michael made a mental note to call later and talk to Gavin in the least even though he was a bit mad.

Besides that, he was met with an empty house and little hope. Michael opened the fridge of his house. No food. Of course. It wouldn't have been the first time Michael went hungry and he was running out of lunch money, too. The situation was far from ideal. Oh fucking well. Michael was better off on his own. He didn't need anyone to help him.

It was about 6 o'clock when the doorbell rang. Michael went downstairs and answered the door.

At the door he was surprised to find a police officer.

"Hello. May I come in?"


	3. Pain and Release

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if this chapters a bit sad. Thanks again for all the support and stuff, you guys are simply great! Sorry if chapters slow down a bit, I'm rather busy at the moment, but you guys give me the drive to write so thank you!

Michael looked with a puzzled face at the officer's request.

"What is it?"

"It's about your dad, kid." The man's face looked grim.

"He was in a car accident. He was found dead this morning."

Michael was speechless, not shocked, but speechless. Michael knew his dad was drunk last night, but this? Michael went to go sit down and the officer kind of invited himself in. Michael wasn't sad. He didn't feel sad, he felt alone. The cop sat across from Michael.

"I just need to ask you a few questions, okay?" The officer took out a pen and notepad. Michael nodded. He didn't know how to react. Yeah, his dad was a piece of shit, but he was all Michael had. Michael's mom died giving birth to his little brother, but he also died. Michael was nine. It was crushing to him of course, but then he still had his dad. Although, that was before the booze and the depression and the pain. Michael looked down at his thigh, which he knew had painful discoloration beneath his jeans. Now he had no one.

"When's the last time you saw your dad?"

It took most of his strength to answer any questions and his tone was still extremely low.

"Last night. About 7:30 I guess." Michael swallowed the large lump in his throat.

"Why did he leave the house?"

"He didn't say."

"What was he doing before he left?"

Michael wasn't about to tell him the truth, even if he was a cop.

"He was watching tv and drinking."

"Drinking what?"

"Beer."

"You let him drive when he drank alcohol?" The man's tone got louder.

"I didn't know he was leaving!" Michael's tone raised as well.

"Oh, you didn't? You seem particularly unmoved by hearing this news, Michael!" His tone was far past sincerity and had reached condescension. Michael knew not to get angry at authority figures at the very least. When he got angry it got bad.

"You know what, I think it's time for you to leave!" He said as he got up from the couch and opened the front door, gesturing out. Michael was hiding his rage, but it was practically seething out his pores.

"Where did you get that shiner, Michael?"

"I. Said. Get. Out." Michael's voice was low and demanding. The policeman got up and left and Michael slammed the door behind him.

 

Michael didn't miss his dad. He couldn't explain why as soon as the cop left he started crying, bawling even. He didn't understand why everything had to be so shit for him and him only in this god forsaken world. What the fuck did he do to deserve this? Now he was quite literally alone. He had no one.

Michael didn't know what to think. He had no solution.

Michael was in hysterics. He thought he was just that worthless. No one wanted him. No one would ever want him. He was stupid and ugly and good for nothing. The light in his eyes had been fading for quite some time, but now it was gone. Simply gone. He hated himself, just like everyone else hated him. He didn't deserve life anymore.

Michael went to the kitchen and got a knife out of their-his drawer. He sat down on the couch and rolled up his left sleeve. He held the knife in his right hand. His hands were trembling terribly.

"DO IT." He yelled to himself. The tears on his cheeks dropped down to his arms which were outstretched.

"DO IT YOU COWARD!"

With that Michael sliced the knife into his wrist, first lightly, then deeper.

The pain didn't feel good. It felt terrible. It was just what Michael thought and believed he deserved. He felt release. He felt as though all his pent up aggression was released into the blood that was now dripping down on the floor. For a moment, he felt like all his problems ceased to  exist and he could just focus on this. As he continued to slit his wrist he felt just a slight bit more content. One of the tears from his eyes landed in the cuts. It stung his skin. Michael dropped the knife in the floor and laid down on the couch with his arm hanging over it, still bleeding. He kept bawling until his vision blurred and darkened.

 

When Michael woke up he blinked his crusty eyes and shook his head a bit. He sat up slowly to avoid being dizzy. By how dark it looked outside Michael guessed it was after midnight. The memory of what happened suddenly came to him and he was more awake than ever. He glanced down at his

arm which was nasty with dried blood. There was a small puddle of it on the floor. Went to the kitchen and put away the knife and put hot water on a rag to clean his arm and then the living room floor. There was no permanent damage except on his skin. He could see one of the cuts was kind of deep and likely to scar. The rest, he hoped would be okay.

He didn't know what to do, so he just went up to his room and went back to sleep.

 

Michael didn't go to school the next day, even though it was Friday. No one was told about what had happened to his dad as far as he knew. He didn't intend to tell anyone anyways. He woke up and made himself toast at what he thought was around 11 in the afternoon. Michael went to go take a shower later than that and try to make any hint of a plan. He decided he would go through his fathers room and sell anything of value. He needed to get a job if he wanted to pay for anything and he was already failing school. He'd probably have to drop out. He was barely 17, he couldn't drop out! Shit, and if he couldn't make enough money for mortgage he'd have to have to be homeless. No, Michael could do this. He could do this.

Michael was still showering when he'd finished his train of thought. His eyes fell to the marks on his arm. Last night he hadn't properly cleaned it so he thought he may as well try again. In doing so, he opened one of the cuts again and it hurt.

"Why the fuck did I do this to myself?" He thought out loud.

Michael stepped out of the shower and toweled himself dry. He could tell it had been a while because the mirror was fogged up. Michael put on his clothes and started to clean the house. He was the only one who did it before anyhow. In his dirty clothes he found and re-read the note from Gavin. Michael wanted to call him, but decided not to.

About an hour later Michael heard another knock on the door and he silently wished this one would be less painful. It was Gavin and his stupid face. Although Michael really wasn't in the mood, he answered the door anyways.

"Hi, Gavin."

"Hey, Michael. I was just wondering if everything was okay with you. I mean, I'm sorry about yesterday."

"Everything's fine, Gavin."

"And I saw a cop car outside your house and you didn't come to school today. Are you sure everything's okay?" Michael could tell Gavin was attempting to tread lightly but still gain information.

"It's fine, I'm fine." That's all Michael had to tell himself as well.

Gavin gave him a quizzical look and put his arm up and behind his shoulder.

"Okay. I'll, uh, leave you alone now." Gavin turned to leave the house but Michael cut him off.

"Gavin, wait." He paused and got Gavin's attention. "I know you're sorry. I just wanted to say apology accepted."

Gavin couldn't hide the little smile from appearing on his face.

"Thanks, Michael. That..." He paused, "that means a lot." Gavin now left for his own house, but this time with a glint of happiness.

For the first time in a long time, Michael slightly smiled to himself.


	4. It's okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am SOOOO sorry with how late this chapter is. I've been really busy the last few weeks. Sorrysorrysorrysorrysorry. Anyways here it is. Please enjoy.

Michael felt and forcably removed the smile from his lips.

"You aren't supposed to be happy." He told himself. "Your fucking dad died."

Hours later, he started to look through his dad's things. Almost all of it was shit, but there were a few things Michael wanted to keep for himself. There wasn't anything interesting about the belongings. They didn't unravel some inane story or path that would be considered real vent to anyone. The room reeked of alcohol and untidiness. It mostly consisted of dirty clothes, old papers, and broken things. Michael recalled hearing objects crash against the walls when he wasn't around for his dad to abuse. The word was foreign and hadn't crossed Michael's mind. Abused. Really, that's what happened, but he'd never say. Michael cleaned bits and pieces of the room, but after hours had still barely scratched the surface. He came across a picture in a broken frame with broken glass covering it. It was him, his mother, and his father. His father before all the beer. The father that actually loved him. It was probably one of the last pictures taken of Michael's mom. He looked at the broken state of the photo and couldn't help but feel the same. Michael was no doubt broken. He was also alone and there was nothing and no one who could help him.

He looked down at his arm. It looked a bit better. He pulled his sleeve down and decided to stop thinking about it. Michael took the photo out from the broken glass and it's frame. Before him he saw a loving family. No hint of pain, aggression, depression, or abuse. That was in the past. Where did it all go?

Michael's memory of his mom was how he enjoyed it. He remembered everything great about her and nothing else. He remembered how she read him stories before bed and took him to get ice cream after a hard day. He remembered the lullabies she sang to him even though he knew he was a bit old for it. He loved his mom, and her memory was the only thing that loved him after his dad... She was gone and there was nothing he could do about it.

 

Later it was dark, and Michael knew it was late, but he wasn't tired. He went into his room, which was also a mess.   Everything was strewn about in a cluttered fashion, but Michael didn't mind. From a young age he had to learn to be self sufficient, now it was just a lot more extreme. He didn't have anyone else to go to. Like it or not, he was alone. Permanently. Michael thought of the near future and shuddered. He continued to tell himself he could handle everything, but in the back of his mind he knew he couldn't. Michael was scared. More scared than he'd ever been. For now there was no was to deal with this besides waiting it out. He thought about having to pay mortgage and having to buy food. Even if he could get a job, it would barely sustain him most likely. He started thinking of what he could do without. Didn't need tv and phone could go. Prioritizing. Michael suddenly felt as though he was an adult and had to act as one.

Michael knew what the police would do if they found out how old he was. Honestly, Michael was surprised he'd got the policeman out of the house yesterday, but it felt like years ago. Minors get put into homes. The thought of living a dreary existence for two years in a home of people who didn't give a shit about him then thrown out to meet the fate he was currently facing was more undesirable than being self sufficient. He didn't want anyone to care for him. He could do it himself. At least that's what he kept telling himself.

Michael didn't want to be alone. He would never admit to that. That's what he did. Ever since his mom died, if Michael showed any weakness he was punished, so he learned not to. Michael was in a state of denial larger than Texas itself. His pent up aggression had been removed from him yesterday. His arm twinged.

That's what he thought yesterday night was. A release. For seven whole godforsaken years of his pitiful life he'd been repressed, beaten, forced, and threatened more times than he could count. Last night was when he realized he could cry. He could show emotion and it was fucking natural. It was okay. This time he wouldn't be bruised afterwards. And that was okay.

As these thoughts were running through Michael's head he found silent tears streaming down his face. It was pleasant to him to think for once he could let go. He deserved it. He knew he did. He recalled all the times when his dad had finished wailing on him or he had a really shit day and he couldn't do anything. Now he wasn't crying for the sake of it, he was crying for all the times he couldn't.

The worst time it happened, Michael was left with a large laceration on his back that left a scar that was still there, but had faded quite a bit. It was as though he'd been whipped. He remembered how terrible he felt and how much, in that moment, he wanted to die. He prayed his father would deliver the same blow across his neck to end the torment. Hell, if he hadn't treated it at all, he might've bled out just from the back, but what the fuck did he know? Michael remembered how much he wanted to cry, but knew better. Michael cried for that. Michael cried for all the times. The trip down memory lane was far from desirable, but he couldn't stop.

At this point, Michael was laying on his bed, sobbing. He remembered the last time he was there. That time when his dad was gone and the window was open. It felt like eons ago. The window was still closed from when he left it. Michael remembered the lanky little British boy who shouted nice things at him. He cared. If anyone, he cared.

Michael, still unable to stop the wetness from his eyes, reached into his pants pocket from the previous day and pulled out the note Gavin gave him. Michael reread it.

"Could he really mean all the things he said?" Michael postulated in his mind. "Does he really understand?"

Michael flipped it over and looked at the phone number. He dialed it into his phone and called. The ringing drones on for what seemed like forever, when, finally, he heard a voice.

"Ello?" Gavin seemed content. Michael hated being a burden on anyone, but decided this time it was necessary. 

"Ello?" He repeated.

"G-Gavin?" Michael felt vulnerable at the sound of his own voice. He sounded broken.

"This is he." Gavin had an odd way of speaking that went beyond his accent that Michael was only just noticing.

"Gavin, it's Michael." He was silent for a second. "My-my dad, my dad died." The words felt like an enormous knot coming out from his throat. Michael could practically hear Gavin's eyes widen in shock.

"Oh my god. Oh my god, Michael." Michael could tell Gavin was almost searching for something.

"Michael have you been crying?" He kept silent.

"Michael? Michael, don't move I'm coming over!" Gavin was suddenly vehement and full of intent. Michael was curious to the sudden, constant use of his name. He was about to mutter out the word no when the line went dead. Michael just put his head in his hands and sobbed some more.

The doorbell rang.


	5. Confession Time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading :)

 

Michael didn't know what the fuck was wrong with him. He was crying all the time, at least that's what it felt like.   He couldn't bring himself to go answer the door. He just sat, feeling like a miserable, pathetic piece of shit.

"Michael?" He heard the muffled voice from outside.

"Michael, I'm coming in." The loud front door creaked open. Michael forgot to lock it.

Fuckin' responsibilities.

The severity of the situation hit Michael and he immediately bounced up and tried to tidy himself so as to not look weak or vulnerable. His eyes were reddish and his cheeks stained. He wiped his tears off his cheeks and quickly realized that was as good as he was going to get. He slumped himself down the top of the stairs.

"Michael, s'that you?" Gavin peered around the side of the wall from where he'd been searching for the other boy. The corners of his mouth fell from where they were seconds before. Gavin rushed to Michael and they met about three fourths of the way up the stairs. Gavin tried to hug Michael, but he brushed him off.

"Michael, are you okay?"

"You didn't have to come over here." Michael's usual facade was broken beyond repair. No use lying to Gavin.

"I wanted to."

"Why the fuck do you care what happens to me?"

"Michael, because you're my friend and I care about you."

Michael's previous tears had simply returned and he ran his back down the wall and sat on the stairs sideways with his head in his hands. Gavin joined him sitting there without any hesitation. Gavin sat opposite Michael on the stairs. And they sat there for a while. Michael was still attempting and failing to compose himself. Gavin kept looking at him. After a few minutes went by he said, "I really do."

Between sniffles, Michael said, "What?"

"I care about you."

"Why, Gavin? I don't deserve it! Why should ANYONE care about a piece of SHIT LIKE ME?"

Gavin moved so he was sitting forward on the stair they were sharing, then made Michael do the same, but his body remained curled and closed off.

"Because I know what you've been through."

"Bullshit."

"You can believe me or not, but I have." He paused. "That feeling you have. The feeling of worthlessness and guilt and sadness and feeling like you know no one would care if you were gone. I know it all." Michael put his arms down from his head and looked at Gavin.

"Michael." Gavin's voice and eyes were suddenly full of concern. Gavin touched Michael's left forearm.

"Oh shit," Michael thought, "Now I'm in for it. He thinks I'm a fucking weirdo. He's just going to leave and never come back. I wouldn't blame him. I'd leave me too if I could."

"When did you do this?" Gavin softly brushed his thumb over the lines on Michael's arm. Michael made eye contact with him. Gavin's eyes looked worried and caring.

"I dunno. It doesn't matter. You're just going to call me a freak and leave, right? That's all anyone has ever done for me. Left."

"Michael, I'm not leaving were it for all the money in England." Gavin scooted closer to Michael and put his arm around the crying boy.

"It's okay, Michael. It's okay."

Gavin just kept holding him there on the stairs repeating those words.

"It's okay."

The more Michael thought of the words the more he cried. It was okay. When Michael had managed to calm down a little, Gavin spoke.

"I'm going to ask you some questions, but you only have to answer them if you want to, alright?" Michael nodded. Gavin put his hand on Michael's face.

"Who did this?" He said, brushing his hand over Michael's almost healed black eye. He stayed quiet.

"And on your back?"

More silence.

"Your dad did that, didn't he?" Michael nodded slightly. Gavin's face gained a hint of rage.

"Why the FUCK didn't you tell anyone?" He had never heard Gavin swear before. Or Gavin angry before. He felt almost threatened.

"I'm sorry."

"For how long?" Gavin's voice was now very quiet and contrasted his previous volume vastly.

"Since my mom died. I was nine."

"Oh my god, Michael. You poor thing."

Gavin hugged Michael and this time, Michael let him.

Gavin was warm. He smelled nice. He squeezed Michael just a little bit, and it was nice. He was comforting. Rather than breaking off the hug, Michael gave into it. He started crying on Gavin's shoulder. He felt like it was his turn to talk.

"Gavin, I'm scared. I, I don't know what I'm gonna do."

"It's okay. I've got you." Michael felt safe. He pulled away from the long hug.

"Gavin," Michael made it an effort to look him in the eyes, "thank you."

"Michael," Gavin tried to grab his attention in the same way, "Do you want to know what I think?" Michael nodded.

"I think that you are amazing. You are one of the strongest people I've ever seen and I want you to know that. You don't deserve any of what you've gotten." Gavin's eyes were watering a little and that made Michael's do the same, but this time not out of self-pity. "And I care. I will always care." Michael threw himself around Gavin in a hug because right now it was all that he could offer. "Thank you so much."


	6. He gets it.

When Michael woke up he was a bit disoriented. He didn't know why he was on the couch and not on his bed. He didn't know why he was staring at a different ceiling than he was familiar with. He didn't know why he was sleeping with couch cushions instead of pillows. He sat up on his elbows and peered around as memories of last night came back to him. He immediately saw Gavin, who was laying opposite him on the couch. Michael was suddenly hyper aware of how their legs were entangled together, but Michael decided not to move because doing so would probably wake Gavin. He instead laid back down on the couch and surveyed his thoughts. He recalled what happened now. Gavin had come over and after their pity party they went into the living room and talked and, Michael supposed, both of them must've fallen asleep. He glanced at the armchair at the other end of the room and smiled to himself. They could've easily slept apart.

Gavin was snoring softly. Michael was content. Michael guessed the time to be about ten in the morning, but considering how late he called Gavin last night, Michael thought it was his fault. He must've allowed them to lay there for about twenty minutes before he decided to stir. He sat up and removed his legs from Gavin's and attempted to get up quietly. He was about halfway through the room when he heard a noise of the couch, then saw a little head peek up from the opposite side.

"Morning." Michael said. He was amazed at how quickly Gavin seemed to be up and alert, when Michael, himself, was still sluggish.

"Morning, Michael!" He was so cheery and bright eyed, despite the circumstances and the hour, which, frankly, wasn't terribly early.

"Do you, uh, want some eggs or something?" Michael said, extremely hungry, and he couldn't really remember the last time he ate.

"I don't want to be a bother." The way Gavin talked was amusing to Michael. At this point it was more like he took specific things out of the speech rather than the entire dialect itself. He said "bother" like it was "bover" and it was cute. Cute? Michael thought Gavin was cute? No no no, surely not. Michael shook the thoughts away immediately.

"It's no problem, really." Michael said. He noticed how messy the house was and cringed. It was technically his responsibility to keep clean. He must've just forgot because for once he wouldn't have gotten beat up on if he didn't. Michael had a new sense of freedom that terrified him and enthralled him at the same time. He walked into the kitchen and got out a pan and turned on the stove. There were 3 eggs left in the fridge. Just enough for the two of them.

After the eggs were cooked, Michael and Gavin were sat opposite each other eating at the kitchen table.

"Shit, I didn't even think!" Michael said. "You're parents are probably worried fucking sick-"

"They really don't care about that kind of stuff." Michael softened his expressions. "They know to call me if they need me."

Michael was satisfied with this answer and returned to his breakfast. After a couple minutes Gavin said, "They aren't home most the time anyways. My dad works a night job, so he's always sleeping during the day, I see him when I get home from school for a few minutes, then he's gone. My mom is always out doing something."

Michael chuckled, amused at the fact that they were literally making small chat over brunch.

"What?" Gavin said.

"Nothing. It's just funny that were here eating breakfast together."

Gavin shrugged and ate the last of his food. He finished before Michael, but not by much.

"So, if you're parents don't care, when do you have to be home?"

"Whenever you make me." Gavin said with a sly smile. The boys cleared off their plates and went back into the living room.

"Gavin," Michael said, sitting in the chair separate from the couch, "why are you so intrigued about me?"

"Well, what can I say? It's not every day you move house and have screaming neighbors."

"Yeah that's more like once a week, right?" The boys both laughed at the dumb joke.

"But, really, why?" Michael questioned.

"Can I tell you a secret?" Gavin almost whispered, though the house was empty besides the two of them.

"Of course." Michael humored him.

"Here, lemme show you something." Gavin motioned for Michael to join him on the couch and he did willingly.

"Promise this won't change what you think about me."

"Cross my heart."

"I dealt with some horrible stuff in the past, too. I won't go into detail." Gavin slid up the sleeve of his sweater to reveal scars like the ones Michael now had, only faded and light. It made Michael really upset to know that this boy, this happy, keen, perfect boy, had to go through anything near what Michael was currently.

"Coming up in May is the two year anniversary." Michael knew what he meant by that without him having to elaborate. "Will you believe me when I say I get it?"

Michael was shocked. Gavin was one of the nicest people ever. He didn't deserve this.

"Gav, I'm sorry."

"My family called me that when I was little. Gav. Funny." He let out a sigh.

"I'm stronger for it. I hope you will be, too."

Michael out his head into the crook of Gavin's neck, which he at first flinched to, then let happen. Gavin put his left hand on Michael's shoulder and caressed it lightly.

"You really do get it, don't you?" Michael asked.

"Yeah. Yeah I do."


	7. The Truth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys here's an update as always hope you enjoy, but this time one more little thing. I'm sure you've heard of tumblr, on there I am littleachievementhunterthings.tumblr.com and I am looking for prompts and stuff so you know if you got one send it my way!

Gavin got it. Michael decided. And here, laying on his neck, Michael felt truly happy. The feeling was genuine and warm. He wasn't very familiar with it, but he liked it. It reminded Michael of his mom and security. His life before all the shit. It was nice. Michael felt genuinely elated and couldn't help himself from grinning like a moron.

"Michael?" Gavin nudged him with his shoulder and Michael sat up.

"I need to go home and shower, its 'bout noon."

"Oh, okay." Michael would be lying if he said he wasn't a little bit upset, but he tried not to let it show.

Gavin got up and collected his shoes from their scattered positions in the room and Michael followed him. They both walked to the doorway. Michael was conscious that this whole time he must've looked a mess. He could use a shower as well.

"I'll see you at seconda-high school tomorrow, right?" Michael giggled at how Gavin corrected himself. What the fuck? He giggled? Jesus, he was going soft.

"Yeah, Gav, I'll see you tomorrow." Michael just felt happy and he couldn't explain it. He just kept

smiling. Gavin turned to leave out the door and took one step before turning around and going back to Michael.

"Oh, and Michael? Don't change for anyone." Michael threw his arms around Gavin in one last embrace. He wasn't sure why he was making this goodbye so dramatic as he could literally see Gavin any time he wanted.

"Bye Gavin." Michael said, pulling out of the hug.

"Bye!" And Michael shut the door.

Michael felt closer to this new foreign boy than he'd felt to anyone is ages. It was interesting to say the least. Michael didn't know why he was suddenly so clingy to him, either. Was that normal? What the fuck did normal people do anyways?

 

Michael eagerly woke up Monday morning. It was almost as if he felt ready for the world, even though he knew he wasn't. He thought about eating breakfast, but upon going into the kitchen realized just how little sustenance he actually had. He really needed to get a job.

"Nevermind that." Michael said, pushing aside the bad thoughts. He went to his room and dressed himself for the day then proceeded to gather his things. In his backpack he had the progress report from his Pre-Calc teacher that needed to be signed by a parent. Michael just silently hoped she'd forgotten. What was the school going to do? The last thing Michael wanted was to be put in a-god forbid- foster home. He decided not to stir up any news of his father.

During Michael's train of thought he had put on shoes, gone down the stairs, and opened the front door to his house. Michael was startled because in the doorway was Gavin, looking as if he were just about to knock on the door.

"Oh, uh, hey." Michael stammered out in his now slightly disoriented state.

"Hi, Michael!" Gavin waved like he was in a fucking anime or something. "So I was thinking we could walk to school together if that's okay."

"I'd love that, Gavin." Michael retorted.

Ever since the other night things had been different between them. Michael told Gavin everything. For gods' sake, Gavin saw the scars Michael had made for himself. Michael felt like an idiot. They started walking to school and were about halfway there when Michael's thoughts overtook his actions.

"Gavin, I hate to ask, but I feel like I told you everything so I have a small right to know."

"Shoot."

"Why did you do that to your arm? I mean, you know why I did mine and I really don't mean to be rude it's just-"

"Michael, it's fine. You know it was a long time ago and it's all in the past for me." He paused. "it was for a lot of the same reasons as you. Depression. Hatred for myself. And I was bullied quite terribly in school."

Gavin seemed likable and Michael could not understand why anyone would want to harm him and the shock showed on his face.

"I got beat up a lot because I'm gay."

Michael tried to show no outer signs of his disbelief and shock, but internally he was going at it. Gavin? Gay? Michael pocketed the information and acknowledged it as nothing more.

"Oh. I didn't know that."

Both guys were quiet for some time, the only sound they heard being the patting of their feet on the hard concrete in a rhythm and the occasional whir of a passing car.

Michael thought out loud. "So you thought coming to Texas would be a GOOD idea?" Michael was skeptical. At least at their school anyone would easily be able to harass and ridicule someone for being different.

"Well, this is where my family works now. I guess it doesn't always work out the way you hoped, huh?"

Michael nodded in agreement. The remainder of the walk consisted of chit chat and when they got to school they were right on time for homeroom.

Michael's day was dull. He was delighted to find out that his fourth period teacher had in fact forgotten about the progress report (possibly because Michael had been absent on Friday), either that or she just ignored it, but Michael didn't care. His first classes dragged onwards at what felt like a crawl. After a millenium and a half it was time for lunch.

He pulled his usual routine of putting his books in his locker and going to go buy food to eat alone. Gavin joined Michael at his locker like the previous time Michael roamed the halls of the school.

Michael couldn't help but notice that Gavin always seemed so bright. He always had a grin on his face that

Michael was coming to enjoy. Gavin lit  up every room around him, at least in Michael's eyes. They both stood in line and bought their food. When Michael was finished he made a b-line for his usual spot to eat alone.

"Where you going, boi?"

Michael turned around nervously.

"To go eat..." Michael jerked his head in the direction of the hallway as if to say "elsewhere."

"There's a table right here, come eat with me." As Gavin said the words, he sat at the table and gestured to the seat nearest him for Michael to sit.

Michael obliged. He knew no one else would join them at the table. Gavin, the new kid, and Michael, the freak. They were safe for now.

Michael watched the way Gavin ate intently.

"What are you lookin at?" Gavin muffled out, making eye contact with Michael and with his mouth half full of chicken.

"Nothing." Michael stated dreamily, maintaining his gaze. Gavin swallowed the mouthful he had.

"Aren't you hungry?"

"Kinda. I just think you're funny."

"Why 'sat?" Frankly, Michael didn't even know.

"I think it's funny the way you manage to be so proper and so ravenous at the same time I suppose. You're full of life, Gavin. It shows everywhere."

Both guys smiled at each other and Michael began to eat his food. It was probably about halfway through lunch when the intercom went off.

"Michael Jones to the principal's office. Michael Jones to the principal's office."

"Ooooooooooo" Gavin said with a high voice, a somewhat higher voice, then returning to his original high voice. It was indeed amusing.

"You're in trouble...." His tone ascended at the end of his words. It sounded like grade school, but Michael didn't mind.

He shrugged, took care of his plate, waved goodbye to Gavin, and made his way to the main office.


	8. And Run.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I fixed the shitty formatting wooo!

Michael shuffled down the hallways in a more chipper mood than he'd have typically. He practically bounced through them, though he was going to a place associated with sadness. Michael had had some clues as to why they called him. It was probably something about his grades or whatever, but Michael did not care. He reached Mr. Galloway's office and swung open the heavy door.

"Good afternoon, Michael. Please, have a seat." The principal always spoke like he was trying too hard to be cordial and it humored Michael. Michael sat in one of the two chairs opposite the man's desk.

"Michael, I'm led to understand that your father passed away last week."

Oh, fuck. Michael suddenly couldn't speak, so he only nodded and hung his head low.

"Well have arrangements been made for you?"

Michael swallowed the hard lump in his throat he was beginning to get familiar with. "I guess so."

"Who are you staying with?"

"I can take care of myself."

The conversation was slow, and often had long breaks between anyone speaking.

"Michael, you know I'm sorry for you, but I simply cannot allow that."

Shit shit shit. Michael knew what was next. They were going to put him in a home. Perhaps an orphanage. Good god.

"Why not? I'm perfectly capable!" 

Michael felt slightly insulted now, if anything. He attempted to remain calm, so as to please the disciplinary that sat before him. "Michael, you're only seventeen. You're still a minor."

"So what if I am?" The words were stinging his throat.

"The law states-"

"Well, who CARES WHAT THE LAW STATES?" Michael was getting out of hand and he knew it. Still he persisted. "I CAN TAKE CARE OF MYSELF!" Michael stood up from his chair, ready to leave.

"Michael, please, sit, I understand you're upset."

Michael calmed down slightly and slumped back down in the chair. "Yeah, I'm sure." He said sarcastically.

"Regardless, my hands are tied. There's nothing I can do."

"There's never anything you can do." 

The men remained. Michael was visibly angry and it wasn't the least bit ceasing. He would have easily been given twenty detention slips, were it not for his circumstance. The principal was the first to break the silence. 

"Listen, I'll give you two weeks to settle your affairs on your own. I'll call you in after that, and you need to be living with an adult at that time, or we will have to take matters into our own hands, clear?" Michael nodded, shocked at the man's leniency. He began to stand up and leave the office. Right as he opened the door, Mr. Galloway got his attention. "Oh, and Michael? Good luck."

His words seemed to be more sinister than sincere and it troubled Michael. He'd always had bad grades and he'd been bullied before, so the principal's face was not one he was unfamiliar with. He probably hated Michael. Mr. Galloway would probably adore seeing Michael in an orphanage. Michael left the room and shook his thoughts away. The bell rang. Shit. He was late for P.E.

Michael rushed in the locker room unnoticed and changed his clothes, alone. His class was already in session in the gym so he had no time to lose.

When Michael got there the class was doing warm up stretches. He was marked tardy by his ruthless and ironically overweight teacher, Mr. Webber. Michael started to do some stretches when Gavin hurried over to him.

"'Ello."

"Hi, Gavin." Michael's tone was lower than normal. He now was thinking of any and all ways he could get his fucking life together again. Gavin stood next to Michael as they both did their stretching.

"Right, so what was 'e on about?"

"What?"

"The headmaster."

Oh.

"It's called a principal, Gavin. His name is Mr. Galloway."

"But why did he call you in?"

"It doesn't matter, Gavin." Michael popped his back by twisting back and forth with his torso.

"Yes it does. It matters to me, Michael." Gavin trusted, standing up straight and taking all attention off of everything else.

"He just wanted to talk about my grades." Michael lied. "He said I need to re-do a history test, okay?"

Gavin looked skeptically at him. "Are you sure? Positive?"

"Yes." Michael let out tentatively, afraid Gavin would see through his rouse.

"Okay then." Gavin returned to stretching and just like that the subject was dropped.

"HEY PANSIES!"

Christ. Here we go.

"GIT YOUR ASSES IN GEAR!"

Frankly, the way their teacher treated them, it was a miracle he'd not yet been fired. The rest of the class had already started and neither Gavin nor Michael had noticed. Nothing like starting your week off with a mile run. Michael didn't mind. He was horrendously unfit in his own opinion. He was always in the back of the pack, regardless.

Michael and Gavin began running. Gavin looked as though he could've gone somewhat faster, but had no desire to. As soon as they left the gym building where the teacher was, they turned the corner of the course and walked out of want, rather than need. It occurred to Michael that this was Gavin's first time running it, so he couldn't know the route. Michael in his mind attributed that to Gavin's willingness to keep up with Michael instead of speeding ahead as it appeared like he could.

About 3/4 the way through both boys were particularly winded and the path around the campus seemed to be only getting longer, despite their covered ground. Michael was elated to know Gavin was just as tired as he was, so they slowed down and took a walking break.

"We don't really do this back in England, well not the same way, at least."

"Yeah." Michael agreed. "America. Land of the genocide and home of the shitty education systems."

The chuckle he received from Gavin felt much deserved and lifted his spirits. The entire class was so far ahead of them that they were entirely alone.

"I hate it here, too, Gavin. If you, uh, hadn't guessed." Gavin nodded in understanding.

"I lived in New Jersey when I was little."

"I can see that in you."

"Shut up, idiot." Though the insult came out of a place of warmth. A while later they passed one of the water fountains on the run and stopped to take a gulp. Michael misjudged Gavin's ability. He was a lot slower than Michael anticipated. "Jesus, Gav. You're panting like a dog."

"I have asthma." Well, that sure made Michael feel like a dick.

"Did you tell the teacher? Michael said, bringing Gavin's arm around him and sitting him down underneath a tree.

"Why the bugger would I do that?" 

Gavin said, breathy and weak.

"Gee, well I dunno, Gavin, maybe so you don't have to RUN A MILE?" Michael wasn't mad. He just thought Gavin was really foolish. Michael sat down next to him.

"People with health problems don't have to do the runs. Didn't you know that?" Gavin shook his head, looking particularly more and more winded.

"Don't 'ave a fit, alright? I'm fine, I just need a minute." Gavin rested his head in the crook of Michael's neck. After a few minutes went by, Gavin sat up straight and was suddenly very awake and lively. He was easily the same as he was before the run.

"Listen, I don't want you to push yourself too hard, okay? We're just going to walk the rest of it."

"Whatever you say, Michael." And with that he stood up, just as bubbly and pleasant as he was before. This boy was an enigma.

"Thanks for staying behind with me." Gavin said.

"Anything for a frien-"


	9. Sorry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow you guys really hated that cliffhanger :P promise there won't be too many more of those. Here's an earlier update to make up for it :)

His thought was interrupted when Michael felt warmth close to him. He liked warmth. He associated it with happiness and comfort. It was pleasant and for a moment he had absolutely no idea what was happening, but for some reason he didn't mind. He felt calm.

It wasn't until it was too late that Michael realized he was kissing the guy who was the best friend he'd had in all too long.

A lot of thoughts ran through his mind. "Wait, wait, what THE FUCK IS GOING ON?" being the primary one. Needless to say it didn't take Michael a second after that to pull away and dart in the opposite direction. He heard muffled shouts coming from behind him, but he absolutely was NOT about to turn around. So much for staying behind with him. Michael probably hadn't run this fast ever. Before he knew it he had finished the run and was more red faced than he'd ever been in his life, but not for the reason everyone expected. Michael surprisingly could've been on time for class, but he was sweaty and gross and disheveled and didn't even want anyone to look at him. He didn't know what to do, but he knew Gavin was in his next class. He needed time to think, so he decided to go home. Michael grabbed his books from his locker and ditched the rest of his school day. He could literally think of no better solution. So he ran home. When he got in he made sure to lock the door.

Solitude. Fucking finally. What felt like ages to Michael had really only been about twenty minutes. Now he was alone in a silent house, his only companion his thoughts to accompany him. Michael ran up to his room, put his shit down on the bed, and made sure the goddamn window was closed.

He landed on the bed with a plop. He looked at the window with disgust as if it were the one that started this all. "WHAT THE FUCK?" He yelled, literally at the top of his lungs. It was hard for Michael to piece together what had actually happened as he was still in shock over it himself. "Gavin... Kissed me? No, no, that couldn't be. That's not what happened. Holy fuck that's exactly what happened. But, but no one was around to see... It still fucking happened! He kissed me and I didn't think anything of it. Gavin KISSED me. Gavin kissed ME? Most of all he kissed me and I fucking didn't even care?! He kissed me and I LIKED it?!?" Michael was giving himself a headache, but he had too much to sort through. "And why would he even want to? A. I'm a piece of shit, B. We were just running I was probably disgusting, C. He knows about everything, well mostly. Why the HELL does he still even want to TALK TO ME?"

Michael couldn't piece together a rhyme or reason as to why anyone would think that about him, let alone Gavin. Michael could picture him now. Probably sitting in fucking history looking out the window with that smug -ass look on his face pretending to pay attention. God!

Michael tried and tried any and every method to pretend it didn't happen but he would always know it did. He couldn't help but wonder why he couldn't get this dumbass out of his head.

Fuck.

Michael had to make a decision and now.

"Alright, Jones. Are you going to school today?"

He'd spent his last eight or so hours trying to make sense of anything. He had to talk to Gavin, but what the hell was he going to say? "Hey I'm sorry you kissed me?" Good lord this was problematic.

Michael was relieved the night before when Gavin didn't try to come over or call. If he had, Michael would've hidden up in his room and stayed there. His room was his sanctuary from the world.

Michael decided he had missed a lot of school in the past weeks and couldn't afford any more sick days. Christ, he was already flunking. So Michael went to school as late as he could be without missing class to avoid seeing Gavin on the walk there. The right words just hadn't come yet. He went to his locker to put his books away and was met with a small note that fell out when he opened the door. On it were two simple words and it didn't take Michael more than a second to know what it was about.

"I'm sorry."

Michael folded the note back up and shoved it in his pocket. He could already tell how hellish this day was going to be. He slammed the locker door shut and made his way to homeroom.

By the time lunch rolled around, Michael was dreading it. Today he didn't bring food and had no money for any anyways, so he went to his usual spot in the computer lab. He sat undisturbed. Surprisingly, this hiding spot appeared to be good enough. He knew what was coming next. P.E. With Gavin. Oh god.

Michael was doing everything in his power to avoid him, but this time there was no way. Michael found it funny that he wanted to salvage the friendship that lay underneath all the bullshit. He went to change into his gym clothes very early and was in a good 10 minutes before anyone else. The class slowly filled in the gym and Michael tried not to look, but of course there was Gavin. Michael was surprised when he didn't immediately begin talking to him. Perhaps even a little disappointed. Their teacher told them to get in groups of six for the new basketball unit. Everyone paired off so quickly. Of course the odd ones out were Michael the outcast and Gavin the new kid. However, their class had exactly 36 people in it, so there had to be even groups.

Michael scanned his eyes around for who was left and was met with a group of people. They didn't look like misfits or jerks or anything. Just people. And Gavin had already found them. Michael didn't know much about the guys. He knew one of the guys was called Ray and one of the guys was named Jordan or something. Damn, Michael needed social skills. Michael cautiously approached the team.

"I'm s-s'posed to play with you guys I guess."

"Hey." One of them approached him. "I'm Geoff. This is Ray, Jack, Ryan and uh..." He pointed over to Gavin, "I'm sorry, what's your name again?"

"Gavin. We've-uh... We've met."

"I'm Michael." His voice was very shy and quiet which was typical of him meeting new people.

"Nice to meet you, Michael." Came from the one called Ryan. Ray went to go grab three basketballs from the large bin the teacher had brought out as instructed.

"Okay now get with a partner from your group and practice passing."

The four guys Michael had just met seemed pretty close knit. Ray immediately partnered with Ryan and Jack with Geoff. Gavin stated at the floor whilst Ray handed Michael a ball. The gym was loud and the only people who could hear Michael and Gavin were Gavin and Michael. They slowly chest passed the ball one to another and Michael was the first to speak.

"Alright. What was that?"

Gavin knew exactly what he was talking about, but continued to stay quiet.

"Gavin, you can't just go on not talking to me." He waited a second, them added, "I'm not mad at you."

"Fine, alright! I was stupid, I'm sorry." He seemed so frustrated and took it out on the ball that was bouncing between them.

"Don't be upset." Michael felt like for some reason, whatever he was doing, he was doing it well.

"Gavin, I know you're sorry. I accept your apology." Gavin's face lit up as he brought it back from the floor.

"Really?"

"Yeah. And listen, you know I don't swing that way, but we can still be friends if you're okay with that."

"Michael," Gavin said, "There's nothing in the world that I want more."


	10. Mending Fences

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter ten? Good lord. Were getting up there guys. I still love you and as always, enjoy!

Michael was glad that fences were mended, but silently knew things would at least be a little different.  
He learned about the rest of the group, which seemed amiable enough so far. Geoff definitely carried a leader dynamic. Ray seemed to goof off but still manage to be more skilled at things than the others. Jack was semi-protective over the lot of them, while still managing to be quiet and polite. Ryan, well, he was friendly, but with an undertone of something more which Michael couldn't quite put his finger on. They were an odd bunch from what Michael could gather.

Needless to say Michael was fucking shit at sports. The units in PE went on for weeks so it looked as though, like it or not, Michael'd have to learn to like them. Geoff creamed their asses in a game of HORSE and they let him gloat a little. Surprisingly, They weren't complete assholes. Gavin seemed to fit in better than Michael, though.

Michael went to history with Gavin by his side. They hung around each other of course. Honestly, despite everything, Gavin was probably Michael's best friend. Gavin was struggling with this class as he knew little about US history. During the class he seemed so focused and intent on taking notes and Michael couldn't help but observe. He wondered when Gavin would cave in like him and stop giving a fuck. None of it matters anyways. Regardless, Michael had his eyes locked on Gavin in amusement.

"What you lookin' at, donut?" He half spoke, half whispered upon making eye contact with the other boy. "You're just funny, is all."

"What 'sat s'posed to me-"

"Michael, would you care to answer?" The teacher had a sinister look on his face because he knew Michael had been talking and wouldn't know the answer.

"Uh, can you repeat the question?" Michael saw the cheeky smirk that was written on Gavin's face before he sat more forward, rather than the sideways he was before to face Gavin.

"What year did the scientific revolution end?" Fuck if he knew. Michael had no idea.

"1848." Shit, no. That was the gold rush.

"Does anyone else have any idea?" Teachers are dicks. They are willing to do anything to deliberately embarrass a teenager. And they all wonder why students are broken. Michael caught a glimpse of cabin snickering out of the corner of his eye.

"Oh yeah, real funny." He remarked with sarcasm.

When class was finally out, Michael went to go put his things away in his locker and grab out his backpack for walking home. If he was being honest, he didn't want to go home. Home reminded him of shit. Michael knew he was his worst when he was alone. When he was alone, the demons in his head came out to play. No longer was home associated with family and happy moments and baking cookies on a Sunday afternoon like normal families or anything Michael had silently hoped for all these years. No, no. Home was empty, barren, tired, lonely, and abusive. At least he could acknowledge that.

He met Gavin just outside their school building sitting on the concrete side of a waist high potted plant. Gavin had been waiting for him, how nice.

"You know we don't have to be joined at each others hips 24/7." Michael joked as Gavin got up. His face fell.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Uh. I'll just leave then sorry." Gavin sat back down.

"Jesus Christ, Gav. I was kidding."

"Oh!" He immediately jumped back up to his usual chipper self.

"Let's get going then, huh?" Gavin shook off the awkward moment with a chuckle. It was strange the way his personality worked. They began walking and talking on their way to their respective homes. It reminded Michael of the last time they did simply that. This would be ending much differently. Michael pushed the thoughts aside and tuned back into the conversation. Gavin was funny to watch. When he was passionate about something he would just ramble on and on about it with his stupid accent and his stupid face. Michael let him. Right now he was talking about a game that Michael wasn't familiar with and hadn't caught the title of. He could listen to Gavin all day.

They only lived a few streets away, so they were at Gavin's house before either of them knew it. Michael decided to do one better and walk him up to the door.

"Aw smeg, we're here! I wasn't done." "Gavin, what the hell does that even mean?" Gavin waved his hand as of to brush off the question as he fished his key out of his pocket with the other. He began to unlock the door when Michael interrupted.

"Can-can I ask you something?"

"Course."

"Is it okay if I hang out with you for a few? It's just that I don't like to be alone and-"

Gavin shushed him and walked into the house.

"Come in."

On first sight the house was a little empty, but that was to be expected as they had moved and probably wished to buy new furniture. The layout was similar to that of Michael's. The entire place was neater and looked slightly more expensive.

"Mum? Dad? Anyone home?" Gavin asked the house.

"Well neither of their cars were outside so it's pretty safe to assume." Gavin told Michael.

"I've never shown you my home proper, have I?"

Come to think of it, Michael had never been anywhere near Gavin's house. It always seemed like the other way around. Michael shook his head.

"Well, let's see..."

Michael didn't like being a guest in other peoples homes. Even though Gavin's parents weren't there, Michael acted more proper and composed than he would've typically. Gavin led Michael to the left of the entryway.

"This is the kitchen, that over there is the living room." He pointed to the adjoining room before running in. Michael followed behind.

"Complete with sound system, xbox, and all the games I could play."

Michael was glad Gavin knew about video games. It gave them one more thing to talk about.

"Can we play one?"

"Of course we can!" Gavin didn't seem to have people over much. He walloped his body on to the couch outstretched and casual. Michael sat up straight on the other end of the couch when he was prompted. They both sat in silence for a moment when Gavin got up and opened the drawers of games he had.

"What do you want to play, Michael?" "Whatever works."

"How 'bout... Hmmmm." Gavin began to hum as he rummaged though the disk cases.

"How 'bout this racing game?"

"Sounds cool."

The game had started up and the two boys were sat facing the screen. Gavin had his legs spread and was slouching.

"Michael, this is my house. Relax, boi." Michael gave a confused face at the odd term, then leaned back against the couch.


	11. Games are fun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I'm so late but ive been working on a new project that will be coming out soonish so keep your eyes out for that. (P.S. 100+ kudos? Wow you guys are great)

Michael always tried to be proper in other peoples' homes. He might get angry at times, but he knew what manners were. After Gavin prompted him to relax, he attempted to appear as such while retaining his proper mentality. Michael didn't know why he was doing it, either. Gavin had seen Michael in fucking shambles before. Perhaps it was the foreign territory. Gavin's house was nice. That, and people actually cared for it. It was a stark contrast to the environment Michael lived in and cared for (or didn't care for).

Michael creamed Gavin in a round of the game and then stopped to talk. "Didn't you say your dad was usually home when you got home?" Michael asked out of curiosity.

"Well, yeah, but," Gavin stuck his right arm up and behind his neck, "I guess today he's not. It happens sometimes. We don't really bother each other much I suppose." He shrugged and put his arm down. Michael got the feeling that Gavin and his parents were more like distant roommates than parents to a son. He seemed more independent. More power to him. Gavin turned his attention back to the television and Michael was prompted to do the same.

The more games they played, the more Michael could make himself feel at home. Games were pretty much his solace. Frankly, it wasn't hard when you are beating your opponent into the ground either.

"BOLLOCKS!" Gavin exclaimed, losing the round.

"Dude, you sucked."

"I don't normally!" Gavin retorted.

"Care to prove it?"

Gavin sneered and got up to take out the game which Michael had now learned was called "Need for Speed" and popped in another.

"What's this?" Michael asked while it started up.

"Oh, a personal favorite."

The screen loaded after a minute or so.

"Peggle. Gavin, you want me to play Peggle?" Michael practically chuckled to himself.

"What, chicken?" Gavin mocked. "Are you man enough, Jones?"

"Oh, I am plenty a man for this." He said, grabbing the first player controller from Gavin as he knew this game was for one.

Michael's round went fairly well, he managed to blast most of the balls off of the screen and get a decent score as well. He smirked and handed the remote to his adversary who took it up with determination in his eyes.

"Why not put up a challenge, mate?" Gavin remarked smugly, dropping the controller in Michael's lap though he still hadn't taken his eyes off the screen or his jaw off the floor. Michael got SMOKED. Gavin managed to do better than him in practically half the time.

"Holy shit, dude."

"Yeah." Gavin stood up and leaned against the wall as if to strike a victory pose. "I know."

"How the fuck-"

"I've aced every level on this mungy bitch."

Michael opened his mouth, not to retort, but to comment on Gavin's odd language usage, but then shut it because he knew it would do no good.

"Give up, pleb?"

"Yeah, I give up." Michael put his hands up in surrender, "You win Peggle, man. Good job." Michael had the feeling he could beat Gavin at almost any other game, but he let him have this one.

"Do you maybe want to see the rest of the house and, like, the upstairs bit?"

Michael smiled and reassured his thought by Gavin's over eagerness to step aside from the games. "Sure." Gavin arose to turn off the tv and the Xbox. Michael gathered the games and put them in their proper cases then handed them over to Gavin who put them away.

"Toilet's down the hall. Uh, you've already seen the kitchen..." Gavin explained as they walked through the rooms and started up the stairs. He entered the first door on the right. "This 's my room."

Michael glanced inside. The room was clean, to his dismay. Gavin didn't exactly strike Michael as the clean type. The room was littered with posters and knickknacks and all sorts of things. The bed was simple as was everything else but the walls. There were so many posters you could hardly see them. Michael stepped inside. In the corner facing the door was a desk and computer set up.

"What d'ya think?"

"It's cool, Gavin." Michael walked over to the desk and picked up a framed picture of someone he hadn't met before.

"Who's this?" He said, lifting the frame.

"Oh, that's my b, Dan. He lives back in England." Gavin stated, walking towards Michael and taking the picture from him.

"I quite miss him, as well." He gazed down at the image then put it back on the desk.

After a minute or two Michael could feel Gavin was a bit uncomfortable. "My rooms not very posh anyways."

"I think it's cool. Cooler than mine." Michael thought back to his room just two doors down. His room was his sanctuary, but it was simple. Frankly, Michael didn't know what "posh" meant or what it meant that Dan was "his b" but he was past the point of asking. It all just seemed so silly.

"Gavin? I'm home!" A more mature female voice with a similar accent called from down the stairs. Gavin popped up and rushed down as Michael hurried to follow him.

"Hey, mum! I brought a friend over." Michael peered out from the corner between him and Gavin's mom then stood up proper and stuck out his hand.

"I'm Michael. Nice to meet you." He said as their hands shook.

"You can call me Mrs. Free. Nice to meet you, too Michael." She turned to Gavin. "Can you help me unload the car? I've got groceries."

The car was done and food was put away before Michael had noticed much more. Efficient ones, they were. "Anyhow, I hate to just leave you, but I've got a faculty meeting in ten minutes that I'm going to be late for." "Kay, mum, bye!"

She rubbed Gavin's hair and took her purse and left. Michael admired how they had hardly moved to America yet and she still managed to have a full schedule.

"So... That was my mum."

"Yeah I kinda figured that one out, you idiot."


	12. Long Day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hopefully more regular updates now that schools beginning. Please show your support for the series if you enjoy it!

"So does she usually just pop in like that and leave?"

"Yeah, I suppose. My parents are pretty calm."

"I would say that's evident."

Michael remembered how his mom was overprotective of him. He missed it, if anything. It was a stark contrast to his dad, who never gave a shit, and apparently Gavin's mother. Although, Gavin's mother actually loved him. Michael's mom would hardly even let him go to birthday parties. In retrospect, he'd much rather have had her alive instead of his asshole "father." Now he has neither... Nevermind that. Michael glanced at the time. It was nearly eight at night already, it felt like he'd been there for twenty minutes!

Michael's stomach grumbled. He thought and honestly couldn't remember the last time he ate. He was dropping weight, too. You can't eat when you don't have money for food. At the very least he'd qualify for the free lunch program, and he reminded himself to get a form at the office soon.

"You hungry?" Gavin asked.

"Oh, no I wouldn't want to impose. I can just go eat at my house." Michael knew there was not much food there.

"No, I insist."

 

Gavin was quite the little chef. His mom had just bought groceries and he made two very great sandwiches in just a few minutes. Michael graciously wolfed his down, savoring the good taste of it all. By the time he was done, Gavin had only eaten half of his sandwich.

"Wow. You were hungry, huh?"

"I guess."

"Michael, can I ask you something?"

"I guess so."

"Is there enough food and stuff over at your house? Your face has been looking thinner and not in a good way."   
Michael processed the question thoroughly and couldn't decide the correct way to respond.

"I'm fine Gavin. Really, I don't know what you're talking about." Denial. He immediate regretted his route.

"Are you sure?"  
Michael swallowed the lump in his thought and stayed quiet.

"Because if you ever need anything, I'm here for you."

"I know, Gavin. I'm fine. I promise."  
Michael lied. He always felt like he was taking advantage of other people. When it came to feeding himself he could take care of himself. He was sure of it.

"... Okay." Gavin simply believed him and dropped the subject, seeing it was making Michael irritable.

They were quiet for a minute.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to upset you."

"It's fine, just really don't worry about me, Gavin."

"So what do you want to do now?" Gavin remarked, having finished his sandwich and putting away both of their plates in the sink.

Michael genuinely wasn't sure what he wanted to do, but he knew he didn't want to go home. Being there meant being alone. He did not want to fucking do that. He just liked being near people.

"I dunno." He answered, dumbfounded as he followed Gavin again into the tv room as they both sat on the couch.

"We could play would you rather?" Gavin proposed, refusing to look Michael in the eye.

"Gavin, you know I'm not-"

"Not like that. Just a game of would you rather." Michael surrendered to Gavin's will to please him, but he was also curious as to where Gavin was going with this.

"Fine."

"You first, then."

"Ugh, fine."

This was weird. Not uncomfortable, just abnormal. They were sitting on the couch with their knees touching because they were turned to words each other, and Michael was exceedingly more and more aware of it.

"Would you rather be a girl with no boobs, or a guy with no dick?" Michael chuckled as he asked.

"No boobs, mate. Still get to... copulate. If you know what I mean. Also, stuffings a thing."

"Fair enough, asshole. Your turn." Michael said with a nudge.

Gavin thought for a quick second then said, "Would you, for $5,000 a month, shag... Uh... That girl Lindsay, from school?"

"Fuck yeah I would. I'd pretty mu-"

"But," Gavin cut him off, "She's got an STD."

"Hell no. Not for a million dollars. Health is important, man."

The petulant questions were bounced back and forth. It was very futile, but Michael was enjoying himself. He knew he couldn't be alone too much. People made him feel better, even if it was this dumbass. He was sure it was getting all too late, but he stayed there regardless. Where the fuck were Gavin's parents?

"Would you rather..." Michael decided this would be the last turn, then he had to leave. As much as he didn't want to, it must've been about ten at night. He was getting tired as well. However, looking at Gavin's dumb face posing dumb hypotheticals whilst reclined on his couch was a sight Michael could say he liked. This, the guy who cared for him when literally no one else did. He was so kind of heart, so loving. Even though he was wrapped in the shell of a stupid asshole. Gavin was a nice guy and Michael couldn't deny that. He was so understanding. Looking at his face in the dim light had an effect on him. Michael roamed his thoughts and decided he was delusional. What the fuck was he thinking? He had to get home. Now. He'd let Gavin ask this one last question.

"Die in a pit of lava, or kiss me?"

"Jesus, well it's pretty clear with those stakes."

"Is it though?" Gavin retorted, vulnerable.

"Uh duh. I've already kissed you man, it really wasn't that bad." Fucking Christ, was that really only yesterday? It felt like years ago.

Michael was about to say he had to leave, because, really, he HAD to leave.

"Can I tell you something?" Gavin remarked as Michael was about to stand up. Michael gave in.  
"Sure."

"I like you, like a lot, and I'm not sure why. And I know "you don't swing that way" or whatever, but I can't help it. Frankly it's a problem, but it's late at night and I'm being stupid and rambley so please take everything I say with a grain of salt."

"Can I tell you something?" Michael questioned in return.

"Course."

"Yesterday, uh." This was hard for him to admit.  
"Yesterday was my first um..."  
Gavin was putting the pieces together.

"Wait, you mean I was your first kiss?"   
Michael swallowed in his throat and nodded.

"FUCK." Gavin doesn't really swear, this was weird. "Oh my god, Michael I am so sorry. I am so so sorry." Gavin stood up, backed away from Michael, and ran his fingers through his hair.  
He knew why Gavin was apologizing although he felt like Gavin didn't need to.

"You don't have to apologize."

"I absolutely do!"

"No you don't." Michael stood up to face him.

"Michael, yes I do. I am a piece of shit for what I did and I'll never be able to make it up to-"

He didn't really know what overcame him. Maybe it was the memory of how nice the first one was. Maybe it was the drowsiness. Or maybe it was the fact that Michael felt like he liked Gavin. Enough to kiss him at least.

Michael cut Gavin off by grabbing the back of his neck and forcing their lips together. Gavin was tense and taken aback. His lips moved away, but their foreheads were still touching as he spoke.

"Michael, I can NOT do this to you."

"Just fucking kiss me, you moron."

This time was by far Michael's favorite. His heart was racing. He didn't know why he was doing this, but he liked it. They sat down. Their lips were mashed together, but it felt like all this pent up aggression and stress just melted away for a minute. All that was there was him and Gavin. Michael realized his hand was still on the back of Gavin's neck and he put the other one on his shoulder. The other boy began to reciprocate. For a second everything was calm. Michael pulled away and scooted back a little.

"I think I need to go home now.."

Gavin just nodded tirelessly and got up to walk him to the door.

"It's not going to be weird this time, promise?" Gavin questioned as Michael was about to leave.

"Promise." Michael hugged him and went out of the doorway.

"Oh, and Gavin?" He called before Gavin had the chance to shut the door fully.

"I'm not gay." Michael turned around and walked home. He unlocked the door and immediately went upstairs and fell asleep.

Long day.

Long ass day.


	13. Variety

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He said it wouldn't be weird, and it won't.

Michael walked out of his house ready for school. He started walking and passed Gavin's house, but decided not to walk with him. He promised things wouldn't be weird, they didn't have to be together all the time.

For some reason Michael felt more confident walking into home room that day. Something was different about him, he showed it in his mannerisms. His attitude for the entire day was looking up, and Michael decided his life would too. He silently agreed with himself that today he'd apply for some jobs online. He had no experience and would take just about anything. Michael thought he could bullshit a resume. How hard could it be?

Michael was kicking himself in the ass. He had to be self sufficient in less than two weeks if he didn't want to get out in a home. And he did NOT want to get put in a damn orphanage or something. Like it or not, he was pretty fucked over and if he didn't get his life in order they'd "attempt" to do it for him. He could get a job. He was personable... enough.

Michael had been put in a foster home before. It wasn't a time he liked to recall. He was 13 and he was vulnerable. After a really bad beating where he'd been too loud the neighbors called the police and they took him. After waiting for 9 hours at some weird unmarked building being watched by a police officer and put in a room where there was megablox and a tv stuck on Disney junior, they drove him to someone's house. She wasn't very nice. It was a Thursday and he knew that he wouldn't be able to get out until the weekend was finished. He spent 5 wretched days there with some woman who was being paid by the government to house a child. To him it was worse than living at home. There if he stayed in his lane he could get by just fine. Here he wasn't even fed all the time and he missed his bed. It was some of the worst 5 days of his life. Finally his dad took some class and got him back. He was prepared for the beating after that. He knew it was coming the whole time he was away. It was his fault for being too loud in the first place. Michael never wanted that to happen again, and it didn't. These "homes" for children were more harm than they were good as far as he was concerned.

Fuck that, never mind that. That shit was all in the past and Michael could not be spending any amounts of time over them if he wanted to succeed. He was running out of food at his house, but he could get a little bit of money with his dad's old things. That could tide him over until he could land a job.

All this thinking gave Michael a fucking headache. Although school felt agonizing in individual classes, his day always seemed to speed by. He didn't feel bad for not paying attention, he had bigger problems than his grades at this point. Lunch had rolled around sooner rather than later. Michael put things away in his locker and went into the lunchroom. He didn't have any money on him and he hadn't signed up for the free lunch program yet, but at least he could sit and talk to someone. Well, one person who tolerated him and wouldn't ridicule him.

Michael opened the doors to the cafeteria and took no more than three steps forward until he was interrupted by none other than the lousy Brit himself. Gavin was carrying his backpack with both straps and a lunch tray on each arm. He stepped past Michael and took two steps out of the cafeteria before turning around and attempting to gesture for Michael to follow him with his hands full.

"Come on, then." Gavin persisted. Michael skeptically gave a glance and the inside of the lunchroom and he knew that Gav knew that he didn't have anything fucking better to do. So he followed him.

Gavin went all the way down the main hallway and made a sharp right. He was moving at a brisk pace that Michael struggled to keep up with and not look stupid. He walked straight out the exit doors of the school in the back where there were a few tables. Some other people were hanging out at the different tables but it was a lot more quiet and serene than the cafeteria had ever been. Michael only realized that he had never been around to this little outdoor area and was astonished at how Gavin knew about it because he was so new. Gavin sat down at one of the circular tables and put a lunch tray on either side. 

"Come sit with me." He put his backpack down. "Or you could just leave if you want, but then I'm left with two lunches and a lonely lunch hour."

Michael sat behind the unoccupied tray and attempted to be disinterested. Gavin was trying to feed him, it was weird. "You didn't have to get me anything."

"You didn't have to sit down." Gavin retorted.

"Touché." Michael waited for Gavin to take a bite and then started to slowly eat the artificial chicken sandwich, apple, and chocolate milk before him. Chicken sandwiches were his favorite of the nasty ass school lunches.

"So why'd you bring me out here?" Michael muffled.

"Change of scenery, figured it's quieter, and less assholes for the most part."

He couldn't argue with that. They continued to eat in what was basically silence. Michael tried to pace himself better this time and as a result Gavin finished his meal first. Michael was done with most of his sandwich. He couldn't help but notice the way that Gavin was staring at him. Now that he was not preoccupied his eyes seemed to be locked on Michael and he didn't look away even when Michael noticed. He had one bite left of the sandwich when he spoke up.

"What?" Michael questioned.

"What?" Gavin said back at him.

"Why are you looking at me so much?" There was a long silence. Michael put down the last bite of the sandwich in the tray and put his napkin over it to say he was done. He pushed the tray off to the side in order to make complete direct eye contact with the boy who seemed so affixed to him.

Gavin spoke first. "I can't put my finger on you."

"Um... Alright."

"Like every time I think I have you just figured out you go and defy it again and again." Michael was puzzled.

"Is that a bad thing?"

"You just throw me for a loop sometimes." 

"How so?" Michael wanted answers now.

"I dunno, just the way you can be all stoic and shy but then so friendly later. And the fact that you won't take anything from anyone but as soon as I offer you something you do."

Michael nodded at the table.

"I guess that's just my personality."

"I guess so."

Michael started to stir from his position and picked up the lunch tray. Gavin followed soon thereafter. As they re-entered the building Michael smirked.

"You know what they say, variety is the spice of life."


	14. Concern is a Fate Worse than Death

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> updates coming more frequently!!! here's a longer chapter to make up for it  
> if I had to guess I'd say it'll be done by the end of the year with about 22 or so chapters!  
> thanks for reading!

They returned to the cafeteria and set down their trays in the pile of other dishes from the last couple of periods. They still had about ten minutes before they had to be in P.E. to be dressed and on time.

"Hey I need to stop off at my locker and grab my shoes." Michael remembered.

"Alright let's go."

Gavin followed him around like a lost puppy at school sometimes. He couldn't blame him. The school could be a mad house. Michael had been here for years and he could still get turned around in a crowded hallway from time to time. And having just moved so recently, Michael couldn't even imagine how much Gavin probably felt like an outcast. It takes a while to find your place here. Too long. For god's sake, Michael was still having trouble fitting in. He had to go talk to Lindsay, he'd been ignoring her for far too long the last couple of weeks after his dad, uh, ...died. He hadn't even told her. Fuck, he hadn't even told her.

Lindsay and Michael had an interesting relationship. She was a grade above him so they didn't have any of the same classes. It made regular small talk more difficult. They didn't even have the same lunch period. Occasionally they'd text but what was even more beneficial were the calls. They'd talk to each other for hours and hours if they could. Michael just found her caring and considerate to his situation. He realized she'd gained this attribute at a cost. They could relate because Lindsay was abused by her mother at a young age. She'd been put in a home when she was 6 and adopted at 8 by a much more loving family than Michael could ever hope to fathom. Life was good for her ...now. He wished he could say the same thing.

He wouldn't be able to for a long time.

Lindsay helped him, felt for him, and would come over when he needed someone. And he was completely giving her the cold shoulder recently. She had a right to know the biggest pile of shit in his life was gone for good, but left him with another bigger pile of shit to deal with. She had a right to know about Gavin, too. She was basically his only friend. Well, before him. Before Gavin. Michael resolved to call her tonight after sending in a couple resumès. That would be fair. He'd be treating her better than he had previously.

When Michael became aware of his surroundings again they had meandered through the hallways, gotten his shoes, and were nearly at the gym already. In silence.

"You're awfully quiet today." Michael posed.

"Am I?"

"Yes, actually." He continued, "usually you can't stop prattling on about the newest game that's out or the time you shit your pants three times in one day or that there were a lot more 'chavs' at your old school." The last few words from Michael left with a chuckle, but when the other boy had a less than enthused look on his face, Michael drew his brows together and the corners of his lips fell flat into a line. Momentarily, his is concern was overwhelming his being.

Gavin stared at the floor as they continued walking.

"Is something wrong?" Michael wondered how he could be so fine at lunch but now completely distraught.

"Just, uh," he paused, "thinking."

"What's on your mind, dipshit?" It came out of a place of love.

"Michael, I'm in no mood."

"What?" He suddenly looked distant.  
"Gav, come on. You know you can tell me anything."

"It's nothing really, I'm fine."

Michael wasn't one to pry when people clearly didn't want to share.

"Okay well you know I'm here for you whenever." He said, opening the door to the boy's locker room.

Gavin's eyes shifted around the room scanning before he went to his PE locker. They arrived a little early so the premises were virtually empty, save for Geoff Ramsey who was at the other end of the room due to their alphabetical locker separations.  
Michael minded his own business and went to go start changing. He put his shoes down on the bench in front of him and busied himself with his locker combination, which was now more muscle memory than anything else. 

On the other side of the row, Gavin opened his locker, retrieved a note out of it, read it, then crumpled it up and put it in his backpack. He looked positively broken up whatever it had said, but Michael didn't want to butt in where he was continually unwelcome. Even though the sight of Gavin in obvious distress made Michael uneasy. He hadn't cared about someone this much since he didn't even know when. Since his mother, maybe. Gavin quickly changed his clothes and stormed off with nothing more than the remark "I'll see you in class." Michael was alarmed. He thought to follow him, but then decided against it. Gavin needs his time alone. Michael said it to himself over and over until he believed it. Still, the thought of him being that upset over something was foreign. When he marched off his face was contorted and upset. His skin was bright red and his eyes were squinting terribly as he was attempting not to let Michael see him. Michael thought about looking in his backpack to see the note, but the invasion of privacy was too much on his conscience. He changed silently and went into the gym half expecting to see Gavin. He wasn't there.

The only person who was there was Geoff Ramsey and their terrible teacher. Geoff approached Michael first to chat before everyone else could arrive and the class could begin.

"Hey-o there! Michael right? Basketball Buddies?" Geoff went up to Michael and put his arm around him as he said this. Michael gave him a glare and he moved it again to have a regular discussion. He was the most popular person that would talk to Michael, but being too friendly was not his cup of tea.

"That's me." Michael said unwaveringly. He admired Geoff's ability to be entirely friendly to someone whom he knew almost nothing about. It was intriguing to view how "normal" human beings functioned. Michael was normal. He had the capability. His circumstances were the part of him that was out of the ordinary.

"How're you doing, man?"

"I- I'm fine." Michael lied. All this worrying about Gavin was honestly giving him anxiety.

"Are you ready to play some motherfucking b-ball?" Michael silently wondered if Geoff was constantly this revved up or if it was just an act.

"I guess so, man." Michael retorted.

"Don't worry." Ray came up behind Geoff and put his hand on Geoff's shoulder (it seemed to be a common sentiment in their little group, apparently). "Geoff's just an idiot."

The small talk continued between Geoff and Ray, talking about a new video game, or at least Michael thinks. He was too zoned out to give a shit. Michael scanned the room numerous times as people kept pouring into the oversized class. Gavin still wasn't there. Eventually it was one o'clock and class had to begin.

"Hey where's that, uh, other guy?" Jack asked.

"Gavin." Michael was certain he was better at names than all of them combined.

"Yeah you're good friends with him, right? Where is he?" Geoff added.

"Haven't the faintest." Which wasn't a lie.

"He said he'd see me in class," Michael thought, "what the fuck is going on?"

His concern grew into worry which delved into anxiety. Maybe he should go check on him. 

In the midst of the warm up Michael approached the teacher to ask to use the restroom, but Gavin walked in around five minutes late without a pass.

"FREE! YOU'RE LATE." Michael winced because he was right next to the teacher and he was shouting directly into Michael's ear.

"ONE MORE TARDY AND YOU'VE EARNED YOURSELF DETENTION."

Nothing like a little public ridicule to get the bodies of 43 young teenagers up and running. Michael nonchalantly returned to his group for the unit as Gavin also walked up.

"Where the hell were you?" Michael whispered through gritted teeth, which he then realized came off a bit clingy and decided to dial it back like ten notches.

"Doesn't matter." His eyes were red and puffy. Michael could see right through his rouse.

"Gavin, if something's up you can tell me, right?"

"Just get away from me!" This seemed explosive and out of nowhere. It was louder than the rest of the conversation and drew a little attention from the rest of the class. Michael immediately stepped away and got closer to Geoff who seemed sympathetic of the situation.

They didn't talk for the rest of the period. It was killing Michael. Gavin was obviously hurting and anything he tried to do only made it worse. He wish he could know. Part of him wanted to sneak away and look at the note in his backpack. Michael racked his brain for what he did wrong, where he fucked up. He went to his other classes and Gavin wouldn't even look at him. He waited for Gavin to walk home together, but when they made eye contact he sped away. 

"Gav!" Michael called. He got no response.

Michael walked home by himself.

When he was three doors down from Gavin's house he was walking in the door. It slammed loudly, as if to mock him by saying "get the fuck out of my face." Michael was distraught. He walked into his house and went up to his room and thought about what the fuck it was that his dumbass did that could have fucked things so tremendously in the span of an hour. 

His mind was reeling through every minute detail of the day. He was upset, he was angry, but most of all, he was worried.

Michael found himself sobbing on his bed. He was pissed off at how vulnerable he was. How much this idiot fucking meant to him after so much as a week. Who the hell did he think he was? Why the fuck was he letting Michael hurt this way? The thoughts lingered and Michael's head ached. He took two tylenol out of the bathroom cabinet and went to fucking sleep.


	15. Fuckin Idiot

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING!!!!  
> if you get triggered by negative self-talk, depression, or self harm DONT READ THIS CHAPTER. You can skip it and be perfectly fine reading the rest of the story! Please beware

_From: Gav (mobile) 6:49 PM_  
I'm sorry...  
Come over?

When his phone glowed next to his face, waking him, Michael thought about dropping all his shit and just going over. Just like that.

Michael sat up and tried to get some sense into him. The more he thought about how Gavin has ever so suddenly turned on him at school today, the more angry he became. Mad. At Gavin? This was something that was mostly new. There's a difference between "being a dipshit at games" mad and "you told me to fucking get away from you and now you're crawling back to me" mad. Who the fuck was he to completely ignore his friend, one of his best fucking friends at school, and then give him a desperate-ass text later that night? Fuck him. He was being an asshole.

 _To: Gav (mobile) 6:53 PM_  
Why the hell should I? So you can tell me to get away from you again??

Michael felt gross because he hadn't showered in a while and walked to the bathroom, but not before throwing his phone on the bed in frustration.  
He stripped down and turned on the water and waited for it to heat up. The mirror told a story Michael tried to hide from the world. He thought about his still healing back and his black eye and the cuts on his arm and the scars that had been left all over his body. Caused by himself, his father, his memories, whatever. They were all ugly. Disgusting. Just like he was. Michael itched his arm anxiously. He was so fucking caught up with bullshit today that he didn't get to apply for the jobs he planned on and he didn't get to call Lindsay. Lindsay. She thinks he's such a piece of shit. She probably hated Michael by now. He couldn't blame her. He couldn't blame anybody. Gavin had every right to hate him. God and that passive aggressive fucking text? He wouldn't ever want to talk to him again. 

Michael picked at a particularly painful scab from his cuts until he tore it off. It sickened him that he didn't make anyone feel better. Everything, fucking everything, Michael did was just a burden on everyone around him, from Gavin to his dad to even his asshole principal. Michael was just everyone else's problem. He should probably be used to it by now, but it just made him feel like utter shit. Fitting. He wiped the blood from the scab off his arm as his eyes welled up in front of him in the mirror.

"Don't fucking cry, you piece of shit!"

Tears rolled down his cheeks and it made him irate. He was mad at himself. He didn't even know what for.

Michael violently itched at his arm, tearing off lots of scabs with it. He didn't fucking deserve this. He didn't deserve anything. One look at his blubbering dumbass face in the mirror and he was fed up. Michael didn't want to look at himself anymore.

"GOD!" Michael punched the mirror, cracking it around his fist. Little pieces of glass found their way into his knuckles, but he didn't even care at this point. He needed the pain. Maybe it would teach him a lesson. Small amounts of blood were trickling down the inside of his arms. He watched one particular drop gather in his open wound and fall down on to the tile floor. It wasn't enough. Michael wanted release. He went into the shower which was still running and grabbed the spare razor. He threw it against the door as hard as he could, breaking the handle off of the head. Michael picked up the head of the razor and smashed it with the soap bottle adjacent to the sink. He grabbed one of the blades and admired it for a moment. It was a little shiny, but the old factor meant it was a little dirty. Michael rinsed it in the sink thoroughly. The water in the shower was hot now. The mirror had fogged and Michael couldn't see himself anymore. Good. He didn't want to see his disgraceful face ever again. He took the razor blade in his right hand and lightly ran it over an empty spot on his left arm. The skin broke carefully, almost methodically. One quickly turned into two, which turned into three. When Michael was finished he dropped the blade in the sink and looked with disgust at what he'd done. His forearm was covered in his blood now and he knew he was going to make a mess if he didn't get in the shower soon. 

Michael pulled back the curtain with his right arm and stepped in. The water felt like it was fucking boiling his skin. Dipshit let it warm up too long. Michael was useless for everything. He turned the heat down a little and ran his arm under the water. It fucking stung like no other. He bit his lip and let the water cleanse him. The cuts didn't look as bad after they were rinsed off and he could look at them properly. A lot of blood had come off of him, though. And he still didn't know how much didn't make it to the shower..

All he could think about was how hot the water was and how it was making his skin red. The steam in the air the water had created made it thick and harder to breathe. Michael slipped on the corner of the shower making him nearly fell over. He was dizzy as all hell, but suddenly didn't have the mental facility to figure out why. His vision was blacking and he thought he was closing his eyes involuntarily. Michael couldn't see much anymore and-

"SHIT!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about this terribly depressing mess of a short chapter. The next chapter is going up tomorrow morning and will lighten this up a bit, no worries.


	16. Fuck it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you skipped the last chapter all you need to know is that Michael relapsed and passed out in the shower. 
> 
> This chapter has a lot of aftercare so if you can be triggered by depictions of blood or razors then don't read the first half of this chapter either.

Michael hurt everywhere. Most notably, the back of his head, which was aching like a bitch. He didn't know what time it was but it felt late. The sun was no longer shining through the window. He put his feet flat on the bottom of the tub and moved his body so the water wasn't pouring in his face. His skin was beet red. Even though there was water running over it, he felt dry and terrible. Michael moved his face back under the water and opened his mouth, taking a few large gulps.

He glanced at his left arm, which was a fucking disaster scene. Apparently when he passed out he wasn't yet done bleeding. Fuck did he pass out? He rinsed off his arm which was still lightly bleeding and steadied himself on the side of the tub with his right arm. He moved to a crouch sitting on his ankles and then sat on the side of the tub. The cool ceramic against his hot skin made him jump for a second then return to his position. After a minute he shifted his weight to his feet and tried to push himself off the side with his hands. It became clear Michael did not yet have his balance and he sat back down.

"Breathe in through your nose and out through your mouth..." He thought to himself.  
"in through the nose," he inhaled shallowly,  
"out through your mouth."

After a few more minutes of breathing exercises, Michael felt well enough to stand, holding on to the shower curtain bar with his right hand. The first thing he did was turn the heat down. The pointer on the knob was still well on the hot side, but when the water adjusted it felt gut-wrenchingly cold. He kept it there. He knew he needed to cool down.

When Michael felt okay enough that he had his balance, he grabbed the nozzle off of the shower head and rinsed off his arm and the dried blood that was there. He then pointed the nozzle at the floor where he'd been practically bleeding out and haphazardly washed it around with his feet. Michael had no memory of wether or not he washed his hair so he quickly lathered shampoo on himself and rinsed it. When he felt sufficiently clean he pushed in the knob and leaned his right arm against the wall. 

Resting his head on his arm, Michael breathed to himself and tried to recollect himself as well as he could. He remembered Gavin being an asshat. How much of a dick he'd been to Gavin. That he decided to go shower. Michael blanked. It wasn't clear enough after that. In the process he'd hurt himself, he could see that. He pushed the shower curtain aside to see the disaster area he'd made, and left, of himself. The broken fucking mirror. It was almost astonishing to Michael how violent he could be and not even recall. He avoided the blood drips on the floor as he stepped over the tub wall and on to the bath mat. Upon putting his other foot over he almost ate it and fell again but his foot just slid and Michael regained his balance by putting his hand on the back of the toilet. He looked at the scene before him of dried blood, broken glass, and the shattered razor partially on the floor. The blade was slightly rusted. Fuck. He could have tetanus for all he knew. Or a whole array of diseases his father might've had. Why the fuck did he do this to himself? God he was a bigger dumbass than he thought.

Michael dried off with a towel and still lazily cleaned up the mess on the floor with a separate towel. He grabbed some bandages from the vanity drawer and wrapped his arm and tied it off. Michael put the towel around his waist and tucked it in on his left side. He walked down the hall and went into his room where the first thing he noticed was the clock- 8:54, shit. He'd been out for a long time. Didn't he get in the shower at like 7? It had nearly been two hours. Fuck. When he started dressing Michael put on a long sleeved shirt so he wouldn't have to look at the bandages and be reminded of what a dumbfuck he is. It was the best solution in this second. He picked up his phone and grimaced at the situation he left for himself.

_4 unread messages from Gav (mobile)_  
He deftly unlocked his phone and braced himself for the worst.

_To: Gav (mobile) 6:53 PM_  
Why the hell should I? So you can tell me to get away from you again??  
 _Read 6:53 PM_

_From: Gav (mobile) 6:54 PM_   
I know, I'm a fucking asshole and you probably never want to talk to me again. I can't blame you. I've got a lot of explaining to do and I'd rather tell you in person, so please come over.

_From: Gav (mobile) 7:12 PM_  
Fine, I get it. You don't want to talk to me right now. I just want you to know none of this is your fault and I really need to talk to you.

_From: Gav (mobile) 7:20 PM_  
Please don't be mad at me.

_From: Gav (mobile) 7:59 PM_   
I hope you're okay...

Goddamnit Michael. Now he was being the dick. He put his phone in his pocket and went downstairs to drink some water. He got to the fridge and filled his glass, drank it, and filled it again. Michael left his water on the end table and plopped himself down on the couch.

He reread the texts over and over. It seemed like Gavin wanted to explain himself, even though he was being the biggest asshat. So what Gav was being a cock to him? Why should Michael deprive him of the opportunity to defend his shitty actions? Then again he clearly didn't want Michael around him at the end of the school day today. Why should he want to be around him now? He shouldn't go over. For all he knew Gavin was asleep. It was pretty late. But Michael was curious. What possible explanation could there be for his behavior? If there was one, Michael was eager to hear it. Maybe going over was a good option. But what if there wasn't an explanation? What if Michael just went over and then Gavin said "fuck off"? He shouldn't go over.  
Michael kept weighing the options in his mind over and over running circles in his head. This was pointless. He should just fucking go over. He knew he wanted to. Fuck it.

Michael threw on his shoes and grabbed his house keys to lock the door behind him. He put on a jacket and walked out the door, then locked it. The lights at Gavin's house were still on so he was probably still awake. That sounded like good news, Michael guessed. He walked past the few other houses and stood in front of Gavin's front door. He wanted to knock, but he couldn't bring himself to. He could just walk back home. He didn't have to do this. It probably wouldn't end well anyways. This could go one of two ways, they end up not at all friends anymore or just the same weird dysfunctional relationship they had with Gavin's reasoning for being an asshole. Did it matter to Michael that much? It clearly didn't matter to Gavin that much if he'd just play with Michael's fucking emotions like that. What the fuck? That was so manipulative. Fuck Gavin. Michael didn't need him or anyone. All they did was break him anyways. Michael was best on his own, other people just held him down. Fuck it all.

Michel turned on his heels to angrily march back to his house when the door opened behind him.

"Michael?" he heard a soft, timid call behind him.  
Michael turned back around to face Gavin in the door. He suddenly had a million things to say to him. 

"Hey, listen, fuck you, okay? You act like I'm some elaborate fucking game or something. I'm a person and I have my own feelings and you shouldn't toy with me like I'm a damn child or I'm wrapped around your fucking finger or something!" Michael was seething but he wasn't half done. Gavin had a look of dismay on his face and he clearly wasn't ready for this sort of attack.

"Who does it benefit for you to be my buddy and then to drop me like a rock and call me back up being all needy and pretending nothing happened? It's not fucking you and it's definitely not me!" Gavin furrowed his brow and his eyes watered at the bottom. 

"Why the fuck would anyone do that to a person?" Michael continued, though he felt like his angry shouting hadn't even scratched the surface. "I'm so done with all this bullshit, okay? I can't do it anymore!" Gavin was still leaning in the doorway, but suddenly couldn't blink back his tears anymore. Michael felt really remorseful as soon as he saw the tears falling down his friend's cheek.

"Goddamnit Gavin..." Michael went in and hugged him. Gavin was properly sobbing and loud.

"Let's go inside. I'm sorry I exploded at you." He wrapped his arms around Gavin and led him into his own house and to the couch.


End file.
